The First and Last Time
by SilverDragon00
Summary: The three times John took his arguments with Sam too far. WARING: minimum violence, child abuse. Rated T for these reasons. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Sam is 10 / Dean is fourteen**

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><p>Sam was ten years old, and John was drunk. Dean was cleaning weapons in the other room in the small apartment they were renting at the time. Sam was upset because he had a few great friends here and John had told them that they were going to be taking off as soon as the boys finished school for the year; which would be in two weeks.<p>

John had stumbled through the door about twenty minutes ago, drunk off his ass and drowning of the guilt of a recently failed hunt, leaving a small family motherless. It hit close to home for all of them, especially Dean and John. Sam wasn't as upset about it; as he had never had a mother so it didn't affect him as much, though he wished it did.

"Sam!" John called from where he sat on the couch. Dean briefly glanced up from the gun he was polishing to see Sam sigh and get up from the desk he had been sitting at to do his homework.

"Yeah dad?" Sam asked with a bit of a frown. He really didn't want to deal with a drunken dad right now; he still had some homework he needed to get done before doing his chores.

His father shifted on the couch, dropping a beer bottle onto the floor as he spoke with a gruff voice, "You do your chores yet?"

Dean could sense a fight coming on already. John knew Sam didn't do his chores until after his homework; the man only asked questions like that when he wanted to get into a fight. Sam knew what was happing and wanted to try to stay out of a fight, but he was already irritated with the fact that John was drunk again. Sam pursed his lips, "I'm going to do them when I'm done with my homework."

"Why haven't you done them yet?"

"Because I didn't get home until almost five o'clock today, and I've been doing homework since then," Sam explained calmly. "I'd like to finish my homework before doing my chores."

John's nostrils flared, "So you're making Dean clean the weapons himself."

"No," Sam said. Dean always cleaned the weapons by himself, John should know that by now. "But you could help him," Sam immediately knew it was the wrong move, and took a step back when John abruptly stood, towering over the child.

"Go do your chores, now," John growled.

Sam glared up at the man, his attitude changing completely, "No, I need to finish my homework."

"Did you just say no to me?" His father slurred, his breath smelling like alcohol.

Sam saw Dean stand up in the kitchen, ready to intervene if needed, but knowing to stay back for now. Trying to stand taller, because even though he was tall for his age, John was still taller, Sam looked his father in the eyes with defiance. "Yes, I did."

John made a sound of angry in the back of his throat and clenched and unclenched his fists, then in a swift motion grabbed Sam's shoulder's and pushed him to the floor, the boy's head hitting the coffee table while John shouted, "Don't talk back to me!"

"Hey!" Dean was next to Sam in seconds, curling over him protectively while glaring at their father. Sam lay still beneath him, his head spinning and his mouth open in shock. John had never laid a hand on him before, drunk nor sober; the man knew better than to do so.

Sam could hear Dean yelling at John, but he wasn't focused enough to understand what they were saying. Next thing he knew, John was kneeling down next to Sam, the man's eyes brimming with tears, apologies spilling from his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Sammy, I'm sorrysorrysorry," John sobbed, gently pulling Sam into his arms after Dean hesitantly let go of him. "I won't do it again, okay?"

Sam nodded, hoping it was true. The back of his pounded from where it hit against the table. For now, he believed John. But somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew all too well that this would happen again, it was only a matter of time.

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><p><strong>I do not own Supernatural... unfortunately... XP<strong>

**I do NOT support child abuse in any way, from verbal, to emotional, to physical; it is _wrong_.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sam is 15 / Dean is 19**

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><p>Sam really wished Dean was here right now, instead of out somewhere with his newest girlfriend. John was pissed at Sam, like always, but this time for unknown reasons. The man stomped around, yelling about the apartment not being clean, and how Sam's attitude was terrible lately, and that Sam had no respect… blah, blah, blah. This was the same song and dance every time.<p>

The fifteen year old had learned by now just to ignore the insults thrown his way- Dean had told him John never meant any of it, and it was only to toughen Sam up. So, Sam stood in the living room, face blank, arm crossed and watched his father rage.

"Are you even listening to me?!" John shouted, and Sam flinched slightly but quickly covered it up.

"Yes sir," Sam answered almost automatically.

John rolled his eyes, and breathed out, "Yeah because you listen to everything I say nowadays."

Sam didn't reply, watching John take off his jacket and throw it onto the couch. The boy didn't dare move, knowing his father might not be done yelling yet. "Maybe if you listened better Dean wouldn't have gotten hurt on the last hunt."

Their last hunt had ended with Sam freezing up while facing a werewolf and not hearing his father yell for him to shoot his gun. The werewolf had jumped over Sam and attacked Dean, leaving the young man with a gash in his chest. Sam felt incredibly guilty about it, but Dean had said not to worry about it.

But the comment John had just made caused Sam to lose his calm attitude and regretfully snap at his father, "WHAT? Dad, you know that was an accident! I'm sorry about it!"

John stepped closer to Sam. "Don't raise your voice to me, boy!"

"Then stop belittling me!" Sam shouted again, clenching his fists. He was sick of John always calling him out on every single thing he did wrong. "I'm sorry I'm not perfect!"

John made a growling noise in the back of his throat before yelling, "Maybe if you were more like your brother-!"

"I'M NOT DEAN!" Sam screamed, trying to get the point across. He wasn't Dean and he was never going to be like Dean. He loved his brother, but Sam was his own person and didn't want to be a perfect little soldier.

"Stop raising your voice to me!" John screamed back. "If you ever want to be like me, you need to-!"

Sam cut him off again, sick of listening to John, "I _don't _want to be like you!" He yelled, before turning to storm off towards the bedroom he shared with Dean.

John made a sound of frustration before stomping after Sam, "_DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME_." He bellowed in a voice so threatening Sam actually froze on his way out of the living room.

Not thinking clearly and in a wave of blind fury and rage, John grabbed Sam by the hair, ignoring the strangled yelp the boy gave, and yanked him back into the living room, throwing him towards the couch.

Sam landed with his back hitting the couch, sliding to the floor. His eyes were wide and his hands were on his head, while he looked up at John in fear. _What the hell was that?_ Sam felt tears building behind his eyes, but he refused to let them spill over. He held the spot on his head where his hair had been yanked, a stinging feeling reminding him of how violent the movement had been.

Letting go of the spot he checked his hand to see if there was any blood, and was relieve that there was none. He looked up at John again, who was staring down at Sam in horror, the realization of what he had done sinking in. He took a step towards Sam, reaching out with his hand, "Sammy, I-" He stopped when Sam scrambled onto the couch and jumped over the back, putting the piece of furniture between them.

John looked from the couch to his son's face, his stomach sinking at the look of betrayal written all over the boy's face.

That was the moment Dean decided to walk in the through the front door, a grin on his face that immediately dropped and turned to confusion upon seeing the scene before him. "What happened…?"

Sam spun around when he heard Dean's voice and ran to his big brother, wrapping his arms around him in a hug and burying his face in Dean's chest. Dean slowly embraced Sam's shaking frame and looked up at John, distrust in his eyes when he quietly asked, "What did you do?"

John's eyes were still wide while he watched Sam, before hesitantly looking up at Dean and stumbling over his words, "I didn't- it was an accident, I just… I lost control – I won't…"

Dean hugged Sam tighter, realizing something bad must have happened while he was out, and immediately regretted not being here for his baby brother. "It's okay Sammy," he said, now ignoring his father and trying to comfort Sam. "I'm here now."

John's shoulders had slumped and he was staring at the ground in shame. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "It won't happen again, I promise."

A memory tugged at the back of Sam's mind and he realized that he had been right all those years ago. It did happen again, and surely it would happen again in his future.

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><p><strong>I do NOT support child abuse in any way shape or form. This includes verbal, emotional and physical, it is WRONG.<strong>

**I don't own Supernatural or it's characters sadly ;P**

**The last chapter will be up tomorrow!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm disappointed in how short this is, but here's the last chapter.**

**Sam is 18 / Dean is 22**

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><p>Sam got the letter a week ago, and it was only a short amount of time until John found it. When he did, he was beyond pissed. Sam thought that maybe, somewhere deep inside, John was proud of Sam for getting accepted to Stanford University. Right now though, the man was far from showing it.<p>

Sam stood in the living room of their little apartment with John, arguing, as expected. He knew it would be hard to convince the man to let him go to college, but he didn't think it would be this hard.

"How can you be so selfish?!" John screamed at him.

"Selfish! How am I being selfish in any way!" Sam shouted back. He was so angry. Angry at John, angry at Dean for just standing there. Angry at his life.

"You're leaving us after all this time, after all we've done for you, to go to _school?!_" John shouted, clenching his fists.

"You should be proud of me!" Sam yelled. "Not everyone makes it into a school like Stanford, especially people like me with shitty fucking lives!"

"Don't you _dare_ swear at me!" John shouted in a threatening tone. "I gave you everything! You should be grateful-"

"Grateful for what?" Sam screamed. "You leaving us to fend for yourself for years, practically starving? While you chased this - this fantasy of getting revenge for mom?!"

"Don't bring her into this!"

"Revenge won't bring mom back, dad!" Sam screamed.

John practically shook with anger, and he is ashamed to say he didn't regret what he did next. He raised a fist and it connected with his youngest son's jaw, knocking the boy off his feet and onto his rear.

Sam held his jaw, his head down and hair covering his eyes. Silently, he stood. He walked towards the door, with nothing but the Stanford letter and his jacket. He glared at Dean who did nothing to stop him before saying. "I'm leaving."

The door slammed shut behind him and the last thing he heard from his father was a scream, "_DON'T COME BACK._"

Sam shook his head, and kept walking, his jaw stinging. John didn't have to worry. He wasn't coming Back.


End file.
